Little Boy Lost
by Ann65
Summary: An alternative version of The Judges, from episodes two and three of season four. What started out as a harmless prank has left Gopher in serious trouble - and might cost Doc more than he ever imagined.
1. Chapter 1

Hello again, and welcome to my latest story.

It's another alternative version of another episode that bugged the hell out of me when I first saw it, and still does now.

It's based on The Judges storyline in season four's double length second and third episodes, where Doc is jealous of Gopher helping two rather glamorous judges. But then the prank he plays on him so he can take his place gets our favourite purser arrested for drug running, stuck in jail when they leave port, and in _serious_ trouble.

As usual, the ending is played for laughs - he turns up just in time to meet a now frantic with worry Doc as he sets off to find him. Never mind leaving Doc standing there, while he drives off with those two judges! If that had been me, I'd have found a box to stand on, and strangled him!

So here's my idea on how Gopher manages to get home... and the consequences that Doc's actions has on them both.

* * *

Little Boy Lost

Chapter One

Gopher stood on the quayside, staring at the towering ship in front of him. Yes, she was white. And yes, she was beautiful. But she wasn't going to take him where he needed so desperately to go.

She wasn't... _his_.

No, his ship really had sailed. Almost three days ago, so she'd be well on her journey home. Her only alternative was still in port until the weekend, which made the frantic dash he'd made to get here... well, yes. In hindsight, kinda pointless.

Expensive too. Whether he'd been conned out of it or not, that cab fare had been twice what he'd set aside to cover it.

So, then - that was that. Unless The Star Of The Seas changed her route from Miami to Los Angeles, he was stuck here in Curacao - in no mood to appreciate the irony of missing his own ship.

Instead, he felt a wry smile tug at his mouth. A humourless realization that the fool's errand Doc had sent him on had really lived up to its name.

And damn, what it had cost him! The humiliation of being stripped down to his underwear. Searched, _very_ thoroughly, for the drugs he'd insisted so vehemently he didn't have.

Two days and nights locked in a jail cell, with no-one who spoke enough English to help him. Just that waaay too friendly lady, whose interest in him had _nothing_ to do with getting him released.

"_I speak English_!"

Yeah, right. It was the only English she _did_ speak. And the last thought on her mind had been to try and help him. The way she'd looked at him, stripped to the waist, and shivering with embarrassment, he'd been safer in his cell.

By the time he'd got through reams of red tape to the American Consulate, it was too late. To his horror, the Princess had sailed two days earlier. The only help they'd been able to give him was a cash advance to get him home, which he'd gladly accepted, and a call to his ship which, in bitter exhaustion, he'd asked them to make on his behalf.

Shock at what he'd been through had changed in turn, from anger to sheer despair. The thought of explaining his latest mess to his Captain, a mess that wasn't even his fault - no, he just hadn't been able to face it.

Nor could he face the thought of all the comforts that had been snatched away from him. His warm and comfy bed, all the food he could eat, and the joy of living his dream with such wonderful friends.

Instead, that bunk had made him itch all over, the only meals he'd been given were too inedible for him to finish, and the only views he'd had were four stone grey walls.

Oh yes, _such_ wonderful friends. Just one of them, to be more pedantically precise. The friend he'd always seen as his biggest big brother, always there to look out for him - NOT let petty, lovelorn jealousy land him in prison.

The sheer scale of his situation now hit him, as hard as the tree that had flattened him into a delirious coma. With just the clothes on his back, he was stranded, thousands of miles from home, with barely enough means to get him there.

So yes, as he sat on the harbour wall, counting out the cheapest options he had, the smile returned. Not his usual, cheery grin, but one full of the same bitterness that darkened his eyes, and cracked through his voice.

"Twenty bucks to the airport, three for lunch... another two hundred for my flight, and... yeah, Doc... I hope Rena and Valerie were worth what they've cost us."


	2. Chapter 2

Poor Gopher! Watching him in this episode, I just wanted to hug him. As the instigator of what he went through... oh, yes. Doc's in trouble too.

* * *

Little Boy Lost

Chapter Two

Placing his phone back in its cradle, Merrill Stubing took a deep breath. Another, to bring the emotions that now coursed through him back under his control.

Relief at what he'd just heard, but still far too much worry at what he hadn't. A crushing sense of failing the boy whose safety on his ship was his responsibility. And, for the first time since they'd known each other, the same depth of disappointment in his oldest, closest friend.

Standing in front of him, Doc's face was full of the same worry, and even deeper guilt. A stupid, senseless prank had gone disastrously wrong, and - yes, he deserved every blast of his Captain's glare.

"If you're expecting me to tear strips off you, Adam, then... yes, I can do that. But I think your conscience is doing a far better job of it than I ever could."

It was. The strain and remorse in Doc's eyes told him that. It was the fear in them, though, that caused his Captain's to soften. A bundle of mischief who'd been born to be protected, Gopher was the little brother he'd never had. If anything had happened to him, he'd never forgive himself.

On that point, at least, he had some degree of good news.

"I've just heard back from the Consulate in Willemstad. Apparently, that little _errand_ you sent him on left him in jail there, accused of drug running. Luckily, he was allowed to call them for help... eventually. They managed to get him released, with enough money to get him home..."

The relief on his face was mirrored ten times over on Doc's. Just as quickly, though, it turned back to an anxious frown. There was an unvoiced 'but' in there somewhere. After another deep breath, out it came.

"But since he left them this morning, they have no idea where he is. And his name isn't on any of the passenger lists for flights into Los Angeles. So I'm afraid to say, he's still missing... either trying to get home, or still somewhere on the island. I've put more calls through all their hospitals, and... well, we just have to hope, Adam, that no news is still good news."

There was another scenario, of course, that he couldn't bring himself to say aloud. Then again, he didn't need to. Its implications were written across Doc's face as he sank onto the chair behind him, burying his head in his hands.

Through no fault of his own, his littlest brother was lost, alone, and in _serious_ trouble. And yes, he could be lying in a hospital somewhere, his identity still unknown. But even more unthinkably, he could also be lying in somewhere far worse.

Doc knew his imagination was running away from him, but - damn, he couldn't help it. For the sake of his own, middle aged ego - dear God, what had he done?

If he was aware of the gentle squeeze on his shoulder, he was too consumed by guilt to show it. For Merrill, too, the same questions were going to cause him a third, anxiously sleepless night.

Why hadn't Gopher called them to let them know he was safe? And, more worryingly, where the hell was he?


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks so much to you, Goosefire, for joining me in this latest story. I'm so glad you're enjoying it.

This chapter focuses back on Gopher, as the ordeal he's been through starts to take its toll. But as he's about to find, someone he doesn't even know can still be a much needed friend.

I've also included his birthplace, which was mentioned in a different episode. Always good things to know for a fanfic writer!

* * *

Little Boy Lost

Chapter Three

As a flight attendant, one of the first things Ellen Harvey had learned was how to read people, and their needs. The lone travellers, who might welcome those extra few minutes of attention. The lovers, young and not so young, who you ensured didn't cross the mile high line. The potential troublemakers, whose macho bravado died away as soon as they heard the change in her voice. When she needed it to be, that stint in the Air Force still had its advantages.

With six years of rather different public service under her belt, she'd become damn good at it. The passenger in Seat 39B, though, was putting those finely honed skills to a real test. For all sorts of reasons, he was all sorts of a mystery.

He'd set off her mothering instincts, too, as soon as he'd come on board. Mid to late twenties, she'd guessed, so just about young enough to be her son. But so quiet too. So pale, so heart wrenchingly sad.

Strikingly dark eyes held a blankness, a glaze of pain, that didn't belong there. The same went for a face that had drawn the worst timed kind of interest. Glances of giggly approval from two sophomores as he'd made his way to his seat.

Yes, that uniform suited him well. Very well indeed. But Ellen's thoughts were less concerned with 'what a cutie pie' he was, and more why he looked so completely and hopelessly... lost.

Watching him now, still staring out of his window, they nudged closer towards real concern. Whatever was troubling him, she doubted if he'd find its answer in the depths of a pitch black sky.

Then she realized he wasn't looking out so much as... down. Thirty thousand feet to his left, to where the Pacific stretched endlessly below them.

Searching for his ship, perhaps? Had something happened on board, that had required him to leave and fly home ahead of her?

She couldn't imagine him doing anything that would get him fired, so... a bereavement, then? That would explain his need to get home in a hurry - and that depth of sadness in his eyes.

Every instinct she had as a mother herself now compelled her to pull a spare blanket from its drawer, and take it to him. Even if he was still too upset to eat, at least she could bring him some kind of comfort.

"Mr Smith? Mr Smith? I thought you might want this. And maybe some coffee?"

_Mr Smith_? His more formal name, in a voice he didn't recognize, and... oh. Yes. That was... him.

Pulled out of his thoughts, Gopher stared up at her, then at what she was holding towards him. He had a blanket already, but... yes, for some reason, he was suddenly cold enough to need another. And from the way his stomach clenched with hunger, he was definitely ready for this coffee too. Maybe even the two croissants that she'd placed on his tray.

"Yeah, I... um... thank you, ma'am."

Now it was Ellen's turn to blink. _Ma'am_? She hadn't been called that since her service days. Still, if it coaxed him into responding to her - yes, she'd take it. She'd feel even happier if she could make him smile back at her. On such a sweet face, she was sure it would suit him.

"Yes, these red eye flights can get pretty chilly, and... is there anything else I can get you? Someone you'd like me to call for you, before we land?"

To her dismay, more of the pain she'd intended to ease flashed through his eyes. A voice that was already so faint and strained grew even softer.

"No... I - I mean, thank you, no. I've... um, got family coming to meet me."

More sure than ever now, that he'd suffered some kind of bereavement, Ellen nodded. Knowing this was also the time now, to leave him in peace, she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, then returned to her station.

Keeping an eye on him was easy. That mop of dark hair stood out a mile against the white head-rest behind it. And it was really no trouble for her, no trouble at all, to take yet another Espresso to the stockbroker who sat three rows behind him.

Passing by his seat, she smiled in genuine relief at what she saw there. Huddled under his blankets, he was finally catching up on some much needed sleep. He'd eaten those croissants too, bringing a touch of colour back to a face that was still tellingly pale.

But even as he slept, his eyes still flicked beneath their lids - hence the firmer than usual request she made to Mr Overcaffeinated as she passed him his drink.

"There you go, Mr Halliday... and if I can remind you, please, that other passengers near you _are_ trying to sleep..."

To his credit, he glanced guiltily around him, and nodded - stacking up his papers rather more quietly than he had before.

Smiling too, though for a wholly different reason, Ellen returned again to the galley, tucking Gopher's blankets more snugly around him as she went past. Yes, he was out for the count now, even smiling slightly through his dreams. With any luck, he'd stay that way for the rest of the flight.

As she'd hoped, he woke up himself before she had to do it for him - rubbing his eyes, and frowning at the unfamiliar landmarks that he now saw through his window.

Well, no, they _were_ familiar. He'd been born here. Grown up here. So yes, in that respect, he _was_ coming home - just not to the one he was more used to. And never in circumstances like this.

While everyone else around him started to check their luggage, he picked up the only items he'd brought on board. A magazine that he'd read through - twice, even its inside covers - and his hat.

Running his fingers over its badge, this surely record breaking achievement almost - _almost _\- made him smile. Boy, talk about travelling light!

There was a more genuine effort, though, for the attendant who'd shown him such kindness. Who now studied him in such concern as she saw him off with her textbook trained goodbye.

If much younger, she still reminded him of the mother who'd answered that 5am call in such alarm, and would now be waiting just as anxiously for him in Arrivals. This "Ellen" had the same kindly warm eyes, so - yes, however hard it was for him, he still owed her the courtesy that had been so deeply instilled in him.

"Thank you... thanks for... um, taking such good care of me."

Seeing him so close to tears again, Ellen just nodded - wishing once more that she could do more to help him. Realizing, then, that she could, she used the privilege of her position to do so.

Leaving the rest of her team to see off the rest of their passengers, she started to follow just one of them down the gangway. Watched him pass through Immigration and Customs with thankful ease, before making his way through to Arrivals.

Startled by the mass of faces in front of him, Gopher blinked. His flight hadn't been that full, but others that had landed at the same time clearly were.

He'd forgotten, too, how vast San Diego Airport was. Yet even in these crowds of people, he still felt as if he was being... what, watched? No, more like watched over, just to make sure he was all right.

Standing on the upper gallery, Ellen finally saw him - so small, but so easy to pick out in that distinctive uniform. Striding, then almost running, into the arms of a woman who then hugged and held him, as only a mother could to comfort her child.

Oblivious to all the other reunions around her, Roz Smith held her son's face in her hands. Fighting back her own tears, she brushed his away, before pulling him back into an even tighter hug of reassurance.

"it's okay, sweetheart, you're safe now. Come on now. Let's get you home."

Watching them make their way outside, Ellen felt a sense of professional satisfaction, and personal regret. Yes, as she did for every one of her passengers, she'd taken care of his every need. And yes, she knew this was the last time she'd see him. Yet the occupant of Seat 39B had left such an impression on her that she now quietly hoped it wasn't.

"Goodbye, Mr Smith. If we ever meet again, I hope it'll be in happier times."


	4. Chapter 4

So, Gopher's home, and he's safe. Everything his Captain and the others want to hear, right?

Yes, but... not yet. You know that phrase of 'brown stuff hitting the fan?' Oh, it's about to - big time!

* * *

Little Boy Lost

Chapter Four

As she'd done countless times through his childhood, Roz sat on the edge of her son's bed, watching him sleep. Tears of shock at what he'd told her still filled her eyes. Even now, hours and some subtly doctored hot chocolate later, she still couldn't believe it.

Those rambling sobs had barely hinted at what he'd been through. Tricked into running Doc's errand. Arrested. Stripped half naked, and searched. Left in jail, alone and terrified, while those who were meant to look after him looked after a bunch of brides and grooms instead.

Two days and nights, he'd spent in that cell. Most of a third morning, before he'd finally got the help he _should_ have had from the start.

No wonder he'd called her from the Consulate, in near incoherent panic. No wonder he'd broken down again at the airport, in tears of apology for waking her, while he shook with exhaustion and anger.

Anger she felt too, as she gently stroked back his hair. In the very deepest sleep, he hadn't flinched, not even flicked an eyelid. And how ironic it was, that she'd pulled a stunt on him that was every bit as sneaky as Doc's had been.

Yes, she'd ignored its insert's advice, and crushed two of her own sleeping tablets into the drink she'd made for him, but - well, needs had been _very_ much must. Physically and emotionally drained, he'd been close to collapse. He had to get some rest, proper rest, before he needed medical help himself. One way or another, she'd been determined he'd get it.

She'd forgotten, too, how young he looked when he slept. A sight that made her smile again, as he rolled onto his side to face her, settling instantly back to sleep. To hell with twenty six. He was still, and always would be, her first born little boy.

Curled up under a huddle of blankets, he was now lost to her once more, in thankfully peaceful dreams. Lost, too, in the far more painful reality he'd left behind. An ordeal that left her shaking her head again, in sheer disbelief.

Damn it, how could they have done this to him? How could the friends he loved as his own family have let him down so badly? Friends he was still too upset to call, let alone see.

They had to be told where he was, though, before he found himself under less sympathetic attention than his Captain's. While not technically AWOL, he was still missing from his ship. The longer that continued, the harder it would be to explain to the executives who didn't share Merrill Stubing's compassion.

He'd understood that too. Eventually. Realized that far more was on the line for him now than a broken, possibly irreparable friendship.

"_I know you're upset, sweetheart. You have every right to be. But even if you don't want them to, Burl, they must know where you are_."

She'd agreed to make that call for him, of course. But not here. Not where he could be disturbed by the wrath she was about to let loose on his Captain.

Kissing his forehead, and tucking his blankets more snugly around him, she left him to sleep - making sure the door was fully closed behind her, before making her way downstairs.

By the time she'd made herself a calming drink of her own, at least some of her anger had dissipated. As she sat in the living room, waiting for her call to be connected, more of it fell away into a fondly knowing smile.

Recognizing the voice at the other end, she felt it turn to an all out grin. Ah yes, Hettie Davis - one of the many 'Other Moms' who'd taken her son under their motherly wing. That face and those big brown eyes, she thought proudly, just got 'em every time.

"He's safe? He's all right? Oh, thank heavens for that, and... yes, I'm putting you through now, Roz... I know he'll be as happy as we are..."

With the fury she was about to unleash on him, that remained to be seen, but... yes. Yes, he was. In just six words, Merrill Stubing expressed not just his relief, but that of his entire crew.

"Roz? He's safe? Oh, thank God!"

Hearing the pure joy in his voice, Roz felt another conflict of emotions pass over her face. You couldn't fake such heartfelt sincerity, but the shock of what her boy had been through was still there too. A mother's fully justified anger, that she knew his Captain would hear in her reply.

"Yes, Merrill, he is. And yes, he's told me what happened, so you can imagine the state he's in. Now I need _you_ to tell me the rest of it. _Everything_, Merrill, that _he_ can't. How the hell did he get left behind... and stuck in a damn jail?"

Before he could answer her, proof of his ship's mercurial grapevine - or more likely its radio room and Hettie Davis - came bursting through his door.

Not surprisingly, Doc was in the lead, with Isaac and Julie right on his heels - all with too much hope on their faces to be reminded how they _should_ have knocked first.

Instead, still wincing at the rant that continued to batter his ear, he quickly wrote on the pad beside him, then held it up for them to see.

**"Yes, he's okay... and yes, she's as mad as hell**...**"**

That, he thought wryly, didn't come close to describing it. The fury in a voice they were more used to hearing in roars of laughter could be heard by all of them.

With no need for them to read it, he tossed the note he'd written in his bin, while motioning for Doc, Isaac and Julie to sit down. This, they all ruefully knew, could take a while.

"...damn it, Merrill, he's _your_ responsibility..."

"...how could you let this happen?"

"...an abandoned dog would have been treated better..."

"...and what the _hell_ was he thinking?"

The 'he' in question was now wincing more than the rest of them put together - bowing his head to avoid the glances that now turned towards him. He knew he didn't deserve the hints of sympathy in two of them - only the anger that still filled the third. The same anger that still thundered through Roz Smith's voice.

"That boy worships the ground he walks on, Merrill, and... how could he do this to him? If he's there, Merrill, just let him tell me. How could he do this?"


	5. Chapter 5

Oh, yes. Hell hath no fury like Gopher's ticked off mom! But as the dust settles, Doc and the others still have to deal with its fallout.

* * *

Little Boy Lost

Chapter Five

Somehow, the walls in Merrill Stubing's office were still standing. Good news for him - especially with all the time he'd spent getting everything just the way he liked it. And however silent they were, the best news for Doc, Isaac and Julie too, as they reflected on what they'd just heard.

Doc was still standing too. Left tactfully alone to take his share of Roz Smith's fury, he'd done so without complaint. Thankfully, too, it hadn't lasted as long as he'd thought. Genuine guilt and remorse, it seemed, could calm the fiercest of Mother Bears. A thought that gave him the tiniest hope that it could also work on her still hurt and angry cub.

All questions, apologies, and explanations aside, just one thing mattered. Gopher was safe. With more reason than anyone else to say it, Doc finally spoke for every single one of them.

"Thank God he's all right."

If he'd looked to his left, he'd have seen the "_No thanks to you_" glare that had remained on Isaac's face. He must have felt it, though. Sensed how it then softened, ever so slightly, through the self damnation that followed.

"Dear God, Merrill, she's right. How could I let this happen? How could I let two women wreck one of the best friendships I've ever had?"

Glancing at Julie, Isaac saw the same concern on her face that he now felt on his. They'd never seen or heard Doc as rattled as this. Their unflappable big brother, their rock of calm when they'd always needed it, looked utterly devastated.

Never one to stay angry for long, Isaac knew the time for that had passed. As his hand joined Julie's on Doc's shoulders, the voice of his Captain offered at least some degree of comfort.

"As much as I wish I could answer that for you, Adam, I can't. I can just be as thankful as we all are that he's home, and he's safe."

Safe, yes, but not quite home. At least, not the home they'd all expected him to return to. But as Julie quietly reminded them, that call from San Diego had solved one puzzling mystery.

"Well, now we know why he wasn't on any flights into Los Angeles..."

"Yeah, if I'd been through what _he_ went through, I'd want to get home to my mom too," Isaac agreed, with enough calmness in his voice to ease at least part of Doc's conscience.

A faint smile told him how much this further thaw between them was appreciated. Watching their nods of mutual forgiveness, Merrill welcomed it too.

Furious at what he'd done, Isaac had barely been on speaking terms with him since they'd left Curacao. With Gopher now safely home, at least that friendship could start to heal.

Yet none of them could fully enjoy the relief that Roz's call had brought them. Listening to her on loudspeaker, they'd all heard the sting in her voice. Her disappointment that, in seeing to the needs of their passengers, her son's had been completely overlooked.

"_One of you, Merrill. Surely one of you could have been spared to go back there to help him? To bring him home_?"

A fair point that, with the benefit of hindsight, Merrill knew he'd handled badly. Yes, of course they'd had to fulfill their obligations to their passengers, and Doc's duties meant he'd had to stay on board. But Roz had been right. As the most easily replaceable member of his hospitality crew, Isaac could have returned to Curacao, with no awkward questions to answer.

The first to realize that something was wrong, he could have stayed in Willemstad before they'd even left port. So much of the ordeal that Gopher had gone through could have been avoided.

All too late to change now, of course. And when asked how soon he'd be coming back, her thankfully calmer answer had still left all of them stunned.

"_Well, yes, Merrill... yes, of course I'll talk to him more when he wakes up, but... no, Merrill. The way he's feeling right now, I can't be sure that he will._"

A bombshell they'd all expected, and dreaded, and couldn't believe could now actually happen. As his closest friend, Isaac had taken it especially hard. And, needless to say, he was still refusing to accept it.

"So what happens now, sir? I - I mean, he _is_ going to come back... isn't he?"

Ah, the million dollar question, with an answer that none of them wanted to face. Merrill couldn't bring himself to accept it either. But then, as Captain, it again fell to him to gently, and sadly, prepare them all for its impact.

"I'm sorry, Isaac, but only Gopher can decide that. With every right to be, he's angry, hurt, and upset... and if he really feels he can't work with us any more, we'll all have to respect his decision. But right now, it's _his_ welfare that we have to put first, so I've put him on my own discretionary leave for the next week. Hopefully that will give him enough time to calm down, and decide what he wants to do, before I need to get anyone else involved."

Another scenario that none of them could bear to face. A week without their little ray of sunshine was one thing - the rest of their careers without him quite another. But as Merrill then reminded them more hopefully, they hadn't lost him yet.

"But you heard what Roz said. She'll do all she can to talk him round, and... well, if anyone can persuade him to come back to us, it will be her."

In the saddest agreement, three heads in front of him nodded - their eyes settling on the photo that sat on his desk. Arms around each others shoulders, it had been taken on Gopher's most recent birthday. A much happier summer day, that now felt so long ago, and so very far away.

Running his fingers over that joyously laughing face, Doc had to ask himself again - what the hell had he done? What had his selfishness and stupidity cost him? And would he ever get the chance to put it right?


	6. Chapter 6

I've always loved the bond between Gopher and his mother. There's a lovely interview online, where Fred Grandy says one of his best memories of the show was his chance to work with Ethel Merman. If you've seen their 'mom and son' episodes, you'll know how well they played off each other.

They were just as close off screen too. In the same interview, he talks about taking his young daughter on set to meet her. She turns around in her make up chair, and tells her to "Call me Grandma!"

That relationship features a lot through this chapter. It's going to take something pretty drastic to repair his friendship with Doc. Or, maybe, he just needs the right kind of mom... and the right kind of memories.

* * *

Little Boy Lost

Chapter Six

If Roz Smith still had any doubts that her first child had been born to the sea, they vanished completely now, as she approached him down her newly weeded driveway. Perched on the wall that ran between their front garden and the beach beyond it, he was still very much the little boy who'd spent hours on this exact same spot, watching his beloved ships sail in and out of port.

He'd grown a lot since then, of course, into a son who'd make any mother proud. Who could also, but never on purpose, worry the hell out of her too.

More of those changes released more of that concern as her eyes settled on what he was wearing, and her thoughts on what he was going through.

Not just for mowing her lawn on this cool November morning, those jeans and Mariner jumper definitely suited him. Just not as well as the uniform she was more used to seeing him in.

Freshly laundered, it still hung in his closet, as if waiting to see if it would ever be worn again. Two days after his traumatic return home, she was still as unsure about that as he was.

There was only one place where he could make such a life-changing decision, and... damn! Suddenly he was that eight year old all over again. Even the way he sat on this wall was the same! Arms wrapped around his knees, while the breeze off the ocean made even more waves through his hair. And yes, as only a mother could notice, that wind-tossed mop needed a bit of a trim.

A discussion for another time, though. Today, as he'd had yesterday too, he had far more serious thoughts on his mind. Helped along, she hoped, by the mug of coffee she now pressed into his hand.

It was good to see him smile back at her. His eyes, too, those true windows to his soul, were clearer than they'd been the previous night. Either from this fresh sea air, or two days of good old fashioned mom's cooking, the clouds within them had started to lift.

She knew him well enough, though, not to push him into talking. If not in any others, he'd taken that trait after his father. As Elliott had once sadly told her, that and their love of the sea were the only things they'd had in common.

Thanks to all gods, they'd both settled their differences before he'd died. But in moments like this, Roz could still feel the regrets that continued to haunt him. All those years of bitterness and estrangement that, she knew, he'd give anything now, to go back in time and change.

The same regrets he'd be feeling now, perhaps, as he tried to forgive the friend who'd let him down so badly? Better to do so now, in case he didn't get the chance to later?

A fondly proud smile as she continued to watch him answered that. Born with such a loyal and generous heart - damn straight he would.

Maybe, too, he was remembering how his other family had supported him after his father's death. Isaac most of all, of course - the greatest epitome of a brother by another mother. The friend who'd always, _always_, been there when he'd needed him.

He'd been there that night, when her still grieving son had lashed so hurtfully out at her. He'd been the one who, to her eternal gratitude, had taken her boy aside, and explained what he'd been too angry and confused to understand himself. Far from disrespecting the husband she'd loved for over thirty years, she'd masked her own pain at his loss to try and ease the burden of his.

Mortified that he'd misjudged her so badly, he'd just about managed to get through their show-song together. As soon as they'd come off-stage, he'd broken down in her arms, tearfully promising her that he'd never hurt her like it again.

Memories of another friend, another troubled night, drew Gopher's eyes to the scars on his left wrist. Usually, they would be hidden by his watch-band, but with no need to keep track of time, or worry about being late for duty... there they were.

Another memory. Another reminder. Faint and fragmented, like the moments he could remember of what had caused them. But however little he'd ever know about it, still a night he'd never forget. The night he'd so nearly died.

Safely back on the Princess, there'd been no jokes while Doc checked him over. No wisecracks, or childish masks. He'd been lucky, Doc had told him, with enough seriousness on his face for him to take it seriously too.

If that tree had fallen just inches elsewhere across him, he'd have been killed - either instantly, or through agonizing hours of internal bleeding.

If that concussion had developed into compression, he could have done nothing to save his life.

If he'd been a cat, all nine lives would have been used up in one go, with none to spare.

Not just one terrifying 'if' but three, that Doc had also told him to put behind him as he'd helped him sit up, and given him a much needed hug.

"_It's okay, kiddo, you've got years ahead of you yet... another chance to enjoy them so... yeah, make sure you make the most of it_."

He had. The next morning, he was back to his mischievous best. And it hadn't mattered how many times Julie had rolled her eyes at him, or his Captain had glared at him, or Doc and Isaac had just shaken their heads in '_what can I do with him_?' despair. The relief that he was still there with them made every joke, every prank, every moment of it worthwhile.

The laughs they'd shared too, both then, and so many times before. So many times since. Times when they'd been laughing so much they'd barely been able to stand. Not knowing who was holding who up, they'd all clung onto each other, and just howled.

So yes, so many memories. Good and - yeah, not so good. None of which were easing the turmoil that still spun through his mind, as he finally met his mother's eyes.

"What do I do, Mom? I've only got 'til the end of the week to decide if I want to go back, and..."

"...you've still got five days, sweetheart... _if_ you need them..."

Stressing that word for a reason, Roz watched the change in his eyes with a motherly wise smile. With a few more nudges to get him over the line, he'd made his decision already. He just had to recognize it himself.

Just to make sure, though, she pressed her hand to his chest, and used the other to point to the dazzling blue of the Pacific.

"So you keep on doing what you're doing now. What you've done since you were three years old, and your father brought you down here to see this ocean for the first time. You keep listening to what's in here, and what's out there... and you listen to what they're _both_ telling you."

That won her a smile. The first real sign of happiness she'd seen since he'd come home, made even more welcome by the hug he gave her in return. The wistfulness in his reply as he rested his head where hers now lay on his shoulder.

"Yeah, that's what Dad told me when I was turned down for the Navy. He knew one way or another I'd get out there, and... yeah, he was right. I did. And 'til now, it's been everything I've ever wanted, but... Mom, it's all I've ever known... even with my degree, I can't imagine I'd ever want to do anything else, and... I - I miss him, Mom. I miss him so much."

"Yes, honey, I know you do, but... well, don't you miss it too, Burl? The career you worked so hard for? Don't you miss _them_?""

Again, she saw the change in his eyes. The hurt and pain of what he'd been through, pitched against what the greater part of his character was urging him to do.

Then they changed again, into the shining warmth that told her all she had to know. Just like the waves that tossed and churned in front of them, the tide of his life had turned enough to drown out all the pain and bitterness, and lift the smile on his face back into his eyes.

"Yeah, Mom. Yeah, I do."

All he had to decide now was when he'd make that much hoped for call to his Captain. As he finished his coffee, this seemed the perfect time for him to come back into the house with her, and 'try out' the rest of those cookies while she made them some more.

Most importantly of all, the kitchen that still let him sit on its counter and watch his beloved ocean also had a telephone. It was just a shame his call was connected at the exact same time that he swallowed a mouthful of cookie.

Against all the coughs, and splutters, and nervous stammers that ran through it, Merrill Stubing still smiled. He'd still heard everything that mattered, from a voice he'd wondered if he'd ever hear again.

"Sir? It's... um, me... Gopher, and... yeah, sorry, you... um, know that, and... um, sir? Yeah, I've... uh, missed you too..."

The second that call ended, so Merrill made three others, then sat back in his chair, waiting for the now familiar rush of bodies through his door. At this rate, he thought dryly, he'd be as well taking it off its hinges.

Within minutes, he heard three sets of feet running through the hallway outside, and... yes, yet again, that "Knock first" rule had been completely ignored. Yet again, he let it slide behind one of the happiest orders he'd ever given them.

"Whatever plans you have for this weekend, I suggest you change them. All of us... yes, Adam, _all_ of us... are off to San Diego."


	7. Chapter 7

When I wrote this chapter, it was interesting to compare how Captain Stubing handles Gopher's disappearance in The Judges to how he does in Arrivederci, Gopher.

As soon as he realizes he's missing, he leaves both Doc _and_ Isaac on Capri to try and find him. Of course, he still gets left behind when Guido takes his place, but even so - a lesson learned from Curacao, perhaps?

Anyway, enough theorizing. Time to get our favourite purser back where he belongs. Well, almost. He and Doc need a bit of a chat first.

* * *

Little Boy Lost

Chapter Seven

Los Angeles to San Diego. Two hours by car, or just under one by plane, so of little difference to those with no rush to get there. But for Flight 219's happy, excited, and slightly apprehensive occupants of rows eight and nine, the choice had been simple - and unanimous. If just by that single hour, the faster they got to San Diego, the better.

For Doc, most of those sixty minutes passed in a nervous silence, that not even his closest friend could cheer him out of.

Yes, he'd agreed with every assurance that Merrill had pointed out to him. That Gopher wouldn't have included him in this 'clear the air' weekend if he hadn't wanted him to be there. But still the question remained. One that only Gopher could answer to convince him completely. When they saw each other, how would they react?

Doc's own theory wasn't exactly encouraging - the options he'd given himself too realistically possible to be any kind of joke.

"_He'll either slap me, or try to strangle me_. _Or both_."

By mutual agreement, they were going to meet where Gopher himself would feel the most comfortable. The beach-front house that he'd grown up in. As their cab drew up outside it, two sets of eyes took in the stunning views it looked out on, while two others more anxiously scanned the sidewalk alongside.

Roz was there to meet them, of course. And was it just wishful thinking on Doc's part, or did Gopher look as nervously happy to see them as they were to see him?

In the confusion of so many bags, and bodies climbing out of their cab, and ice-breaking hugs, one of those bodies was bound to lose its balance. So when Gopher felt himself stumble into Doc's arms, there was no way to know whose "Ooops, sorry..." nudge had sent him there.

Then again, it really didn't matter. The first to recover, the first to react, and with more reason than anyone else to do so, Doc's arms wrapped around him, with a tightness that Houdini would struggle to escape from, let alone a startled purser.

_If_ he'd wanted to - which, judging by the way his arms closed in turn across Doc's back, he really didn't. He didn't need to say anything either. In a tumble of apologies, Doc wasn't giving him the chance to get more than a few equally choked words in sideways.

"I'm sorry, kiddo... I am so, so sorry..."

"I know, Doc. Me too."

Resting his cheek against Gopher's head, Doc closed his eyes against the tide of relief that swept through him. Smiling too, he had to marvel, yet again, at his capacity to both forget and forgive.

What this crazy kid of his lacked in height, he more than made up for with the size of his heart. For those thankfully few times when any of them had fallen out, Gopher had always made the first move to patch things up.

A muffled sniff made Doc hold him even tighter. In his own relief, he'd forgotten how this reunion would be affecting him too. Everything he'd felt then, everything he was feeling now, was pouring silently out of him. So yes, this was a moment, and several more afterwards, that both of them needed.

How those moments ended, though, took them both by surprise. The cab beside them was gone. So was Merrill. Isaac. Julie. And all Gopher saw of his mother was a cheering grin, two bobbing thumbs up signs, before she, too, followed the others into the house.

Taking the rueful grin he now saw as the green light for him to do the same, Doc shook his head in the same wry amusement.

"I'll say this for 'em, kiddo... subtle, they're not."

"Yeah, that's my mom."

A pause while he wiped his eyes, followed by one of the most priceless 'Gopherisms' that Doc had ever heard.

"Where do you think _I_ get it from?"

More seriously, both of them knew why Roz had taken the others, and specifically their Captain, inside. With Julie and Isaac there if they needed them, they had their own bridges to repair and re-build.

Watching Gopher hop onto the wall behind them, Doc had to smile too. Surrounded by some of the most stunning coastline he'd ever seen, the view for theirs was by far the better.

The calmness he now saw on Gopher's face had set it off on a promising start. From the way he glanced at it, then him, he'd clearly left that space on the wall beside him for a reason.

Gladly taking it, Doc's further test of the waters took that progress encouragingly further. More of that re-connecting contact between them, accepted with enough of a smile for its dimples to appear.

Shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, they sat in companionable silence, that was finally broken by a remarkably calm question.

"So, Doc... who won?"

Damn, talk about changing the mood! Staring back at him, though, the anger that Doc had expected to see wasn't there. Instead, all he saw in Gopher's eyes was genuine curiosity. The Boy Scout kindness that formed so much of his character.

Forgiveness, too, that he still couldn't believe he'd been given so easily, even as he made more of an effort to earn it himself.

"If you mean the bride and groom competition, it was Ted and Carrie... but if you mean the one between us, and Rena and Valerie, then... well, I'd have to say neither of us. If it's cost us our friendship, kiddo, then there were no winners... only losers..."

A point that Gopher accepted with a shrug of his shoulders. A more soberly acknowledging nod as he took a deep breath, and made his own just as quietly.

"Hey, I didn't exactly cover myself in glory there either, Doc... the way I kept gloating, lording it over you... I was lucky you didn't toss me overboard..."

"Oh, trust me, kiddo, that thought _did_ cross my mind..."

To the relief of them both, they were smiling again. Gopher had even managed a "Yeah, I bet..." snort of laughter. But as he felt his own grin start to fade, so Doc knew this much needed bantering between them had to stop. After building enough bridges to get them there, the time had come to face the hardest.

Suddenly, he had to get to his feet again. Strides of movement, to work more of his guilt out of his system.

With his own reasons to do the same, Gopher stood up too, following him onto the path that led down to the beach, but still keeping enough 'pacing room' between them. And it was Doc's turn, for once, to throw _him_ for a 180 degree loop.

"But Gopher... my God, when Julie and Isaac told me you weren't back on the ship, I felt sick. Physically sick. And yeah, I deserved every bit of it, but I was scared too... so damn scared that you were missing because of me... that dumb stunt I pulled on you, it... damn it, Gopher, not for one second did I think it would land you in jail, with those guards thinking you'd..."

Stopping in mid sentence, and now mid path too, Doc then turned around to stare back at him - what he'd been about to say next bringing him straight back to Gopher side. Not just in big brother mode now, but full doctor mode too, for reasons he could barely bring himself to ask.

"If - If you were searched for those drugs, just... please, kiddo, just please tell me they didn't... hurt you."

A thought that, until now, Gopher hadn't even considered. As Doc reacted in turn to the shock on his face, he had to regain his composure for both of them, and reassure both of them too.

"No, they... um, just frisked me down a few times, then went through my clothes... even took out the lining in my hat, and... well, when they didn't find anything, they just left me in a cell while they decided what to do with me. From what the Captain told me when I called, there was... um, a _lot_ of red tape to get through before they let me call the Consulate..."

His worst fears dispelled, the dismay and disgust on Doc's face still spoke for itself. Ah yes, the joys of point scoring bureaucracy - made even worse when a supposedly drug-running American was involved.

Caught in the crossfire, it had been the longest, most frustrating hours of Gopher's life. And, as a softer voice both revealed and betrayed, the most frightening too.

"I - I was just so scared, Doc... I couldn't make them understand me, I couldn't call anyone to help me, or get me out, or..."

Again, he felt himself being pulled into Doc's arms. Wrapped in another hug full of regret, and heartfelt remorse for what he'd been through.

"Damn it, Gopher, I can say sorry for the rest of my life, and it still won't be enough... but I promise you now, kiddo... I will never, _ever_, let anything like this happen to you again... I swear to you, kiddo... _never again_..."

Everything he still needed to say, and everything that Gopher still needed to hear - rewarded with another of those tear-bright but still priceless grins.

Still more easily than Doc felt he deserved, his littlest brother was back, which could only mean one thing. Well, what was the point in having a littlest brother, if you couldn't muss up his hair?

It was something Gopher insisted he hated - which, of course, was why both Doc and Isaac took every chance they could to do it. So no, that pouting glare was fooling no-one. It never had, and never would.

But a brotherly hug? A walk along this stunning beach, just to enjoy each other's company again? Oh, yes. Definitely what this doctor would order, and this purser would accept just as happily.

Watching them disappear down the steps that led onto it, mother and surrogate father traded their own hugs of reconciled approval. For Merrill, too, there was just one more promise to make to her. With a few tweaks to heal his own conscience, it was the same one that Doc had just made to their mutually loved son.

"I'll always regret that decision, Roz. As soon as Isaac told me he was wasn't on board, he could have stayed in Willemstad... been there to help him, just spare him what he went through, but... well, I can't change the past. All I can do is promise both of you this for the present, _and_ the future... he'll _never_ go through anything like this again... ever..."

If he'd ever wondered where his purser's generosity came from, he found it now, as Roz smiled back at him. An amazing woman, he thought proudly, who'd blessed him with an equally special son.

"I know that, Merrill... you've always looked out for him as your own, especially since Elliott died... and you know he appreciates that as much as I do..."

Pointing to where he now walked through the surf, still hugged against Doc's side, her smile widened in another trait she'd passed onto him. That wicked, unique, and now even more priceless streak of mischief.

"Though if you want to make any kind of fuss over him, you'll have to get past Adam first... just look at them, Merrill... he's not letting him out of his sight..."

A point as serious as it was teasingly proud - and proved for the rest of that day. As Roz noted to Merrill while they set the table for dinner, her boy now had an extra shadow. And when Isaac stepped in for his share of big brothering, two became three.

Gopher knew it too, of course. Hell, the only time they left him alone was when he had to go to the bathroom. Even then, he suspected they still stood guard beside its door.

Things were a bit cramped too, for all of them, as they settled in for the night. But no-one was going to complain, or even consider it. Huddled together on couches, chairs, and air-beds, the occupants of 1029 Neptune Drive spent every hour of it in love, laughter, the most joyous of memories. And for Gopher, when he finally fell into it against Doc's side, a very proudly watched sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

From the longest chapter to one that's rather shorter, that also brings this story to a close.

Thanks again to Goosefire (and my guest reviewer!) for all your lovely comments - they've been very much appreciated!

* * *

Little Boy Lost

Chapter Eight

Among the lines of passengers who now streamed towards her, Ellen recognized him instantly. Even in civilian clothes instead of the uniform she'd last seen him in, that mop of dark hair was unmistakeable.

He wasn't alone this time either. Flanked by the same woman who had to be his mother, another closer to his own age held onto his hand with a wholly different kind of love. As girl next door pretty as he was boy next door cute, the joy in their eyes could have put a planeload of honeymooners to shame.

Behind them came... his father? The best kind of father, too, who couldn't have looked prouder of them if he tried. Then - his younger uncle, perhaps? Or a much older brother. Behind those glasses and kindly wise smile, he had the steadying calmness of both. The same protective affection as another who couldn't be directly related, but still clearly shared the same, close bond to... him.

Her Mr Smith from Seat 39B, who now recognized her with a grin that confirmed how she'd imagined it. Full of life and mischief, it suited him even more perfectly than she'd thought. It lit up his whole face, and brought out the full warmth in his eyes.

"Hey, it's - it's you!"

Not quite the greeting she'd expected. And, from the way he winced at the laughter around him, not what he'd intended to say either. But not even that 'Aww, shoot!' embarrassment on his face could dim the joy in his eyes. Those deep brown eyes, that shone even more at what she said in reply.

"Yes, it's good to see you again too, Mr Smith. Going home with your... family."

He couldn't have put it better himself. Hell, none of them could. But, of course, he had to say it anyway as he felt Doc's arm tighten gently around him.

"Yes, ma'am. Yes, I'm going home... with the best family in the world."

A family now full of curiosity as they made their way to their seats. As soon as he saw the glances that were being exchanged between them, Gopher knew he was in all too familiar trouble. But then, the head of that family patted his shoulder, with the same gentle understanding as his words.

"I'm guessing she was on that... flight you were on before?"

Not wanting to dwell on that journey either, Gopher smiled back at him - needing just that to show how much his Captain's tact had been appreciated.

"Ye, sir, she... um, took real good care of me."

With that potential awkwardness averted, they all settled into their seats - more knowing smiles exchanged as Doc took his now familiar place at Gopher's side. With Isaac flanking him on the other, the reconciled brothership was complete. The crisis that had almost torn them apart was finally over.

That peaceful contentment, though, ended as soon as Ellen and her team finished their safety demonstration.

With more reason than most to watch it, Gopher's eyes lit up as he turned to face his Captain, with the kind of mischief inside them that made said Captain want to jump into one of his lifeboats, and sail back to Dave Carruthers' island.

"Hey, sir? We could do a demonstration like that ourselves!"

A collection of groans suggested that metaphorical lifeboat was about to get at least three more passengers. And yes, Merrill knew it was a waste of both breath and time, but with full Captain's privilege - hell, he'd waste it anyway.

"If I remember rightly, Gopher, we already _have_ a safety demonstration. A fully _official_ one."

Was there the slightest chance that would stop him? Was there hell. If anything, those already bright brown eyes grew even brighter.

"Yes, but sir... we could make it so much more... y'know, _fun_! And think how great Julie and Vicki would look in their - _ow_! Aww, Julie! You really would!"

"Oh, I know I would, Goph... but my Aunt Phoebe would look even better..."

Still rubbing his cheek where she'd pinched it, Gopher stared back at her, then turned around again to throw his most famous whipped puppy look to his left, then to his right. If ever there was a time for his two big brothers to rush to his rescue, it was now.

"Hey, Goph, she's right..."

"Yeah, kiddo, you pulled it off before. And you've got the legs for it."

"He looked great in that wig too... _and_ my make up..."

"_And_ stockings on those _terrific_ legs..."

Or not. And it was kinda hard for him to glare at them, when he was laughing as much as they were.

However amused he was too, this was the situation that Roz, Merrill, and every other parent, dreaded. Coming home from vacation with three bickering kids, and the big brother who was _meant_ to keep them in line... doing anything but.

Enjoying the show too much to intervene either, Roz offered him a not wholly serious grin of sympathy.

"Look on the bright side, Merrill. At least they're back to normal."

"Yes, Roz, they are. As normal as they'll ever get."

That long suffering sigh wasn't fooling either of them for a millisecond, let alone a minute. And, of course, it left them in the same fits of laughter as everyone else - a sight that made Ellen smile too, as she continued to watch them from her galley.

What a difference a week had made for her little boy lost in seat 39B. A difference brought about, as he'd told her so happily, by the best family in the world.


End file.
